Her eyebrows pulled together at the word.Love. Like she wasn’t sure she’d heard it right.
About a mile offshore, Jeff throttled down and killed the engine as the boat drifted on the slow rolling swell, rocking in the silence.
He stepped out of the wheelhouse and stretched his back.
“Honestly,” he said, wiping sweat from his forehead, “we could all use one.”
Ethan looked down at his own shirt, streaked with grime and dark stains.
“Yeah. No argument here.”
I nodded. “Same.”
Without looking away from Sloane, I started unbuttoning my pants.
Her eyes widened. “Callan—”
I grinned. “Trust me.”
I hobbled to the edge and sat on the rail, swinging my legs over. The ocean stretched dark blue in every direction, theafternoon sun cutting white lines across the surface.
I pushed off the side, sliding into the water.
The cold hit, stole my breath, and shocked every nerve awake; along with it came relief. Saltwater rushed over my skin and pulled the blood and grime away, dissolving it into nothing.
I surfaced beside the hull, gasping, blinking water from my eyes.
A second later—
Splash.
Sloane surfaced nearby, her mouth open in a sharp gasp as the cold soaked through her clothes.
“Jesus!” she sputtered.
I chuckled. “Cold?”
“Youthink?”
But already the tension in her shoulders had loosened.
I swam slowly toward the stern ladder and rested my arm across the lowest rung. Up on the bow I could hear Jeff and Ethan hit the water too, their voices carrying across the surface—Ethan yelping at the temperature, Jeff telling him to stop being dramatic.
I gestured for Sloane to come closer; she swam over, hesitant, her strokes slow and tired.
When she reached the ladder, I moved in and guided her against it so she could hold the metal rungs. The ocean rocked us in a steady, unhurried rhythm. Her wet hair clung to her face. Blood diluted into faint pink ribbons in the water around us, swirling once before the current pulled them away. I lifted my hands and slid them up her sides, steadying her against the boat.
“Hey,” I whispered.
She looked up at me, her eyes glassy, still carrying the ghost of that thing’s face inches from hers.
I brushed the hair off her cheek and pressed my lips to the side of her cheek, her temple, slowly, letting her relax, finally her mouth.
The kiss started soft, as if we were holding something back, as if too much pressure might shatter whatever thin wall kept us standing.
But her fingers curled into the front of my shirt and she pulled me closer, and the kiss deepened into something warmer.
When we broke apart, she stayed close, her breath uneven against my lips, and the tears came, silent at first. Her chin quivering, she buried her face against my shoulder, and the sobs broke free—raw, jagged sounds she’d been holding in.